


Stormy Skies

by kyrdwyn



Series: Skies Series [5]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Kid Fic, Lifemates - Freeform, M/M, Originally Posted Elsewhere, The Author Regrets Nothing, bonded characters, cannon took a left turn at the end of season 1, so nothing after that season really applies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrdwyn/pseuds/kyrdwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth about what saved Malcolm and Trip's lives on Il'endi comes out, causing some hard choices to be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stormy Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I shamelessly stole a line from "Miss Saigon".

* * *

Malcolm felt Trip figuratively hit the hull plating five seconds before the lieutenant was summoned to the Captain's ready room. He turned the tactical station over to an ensign and sought out his lover's mind as he traversed the short hall from the bridge to the ready room. Trip was closed off, barely broadcasting—a rarity for him. But his anger was coming through loud and clear, along with occasional glimpses of Admiral Forrest, sans EV suit, being pulled in the wake of the warp engines. This could not be good, Malcolm thought as he pressed the door chime.

"Come," Captain Archer called.

Malcolm entered the room and stood at attention. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" he asked calmly. His eyes flickered briefly from his captain's face to his lifemate. Trip was standing on the opposite side of the room, his back to Malcolm and the captain, arms folded over his chest and body ramrod straight. //Trip, what's going on?//

//Better let the Cap'n tell ya, cause I ain't believing this.//

Archer nodded at his armory officer. "Lieutenant, I've just received orders from Starfleet Command. You and Commander Tucker are being re-assigned to Starfleet Medical in San Francisco."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Sir?" he queried.

"Apparently, Dr. Phlox's report on the healing abilities of the kt'alini has caused quite a stir back home. Starfleet Medical feels that further studies are needed. Therefore, _Enterprise_ has been ordered to dock at the nearest space station, and await the arrival of the _T'Shiel_ , a Vulcan ship, to transport you back to Earth."

"So we can become lab rats for the docs back home, rather than doin' what we're trained for," Tucker commented sourly.

"Trip, this was not my idea. I'm not happy about this, but those are our orders." Archer looked like he wanted to say more, but changed his mind. "We'll be docking in twelve hours. I'm relieving you two of duty as of this moment. You'll need the time to pack." He looked from his best friend to his other friend, dislike for the orders evident in the green eyes. "It's been an honor to serve with you, gentlemen." Both men nodded, and Archer dismissed them.

Malcolm managed to wait until they were out of the ready room and in the turbolift before he commented. //I am NOT going to become some bloody lab rat for Starfleet. It's bad enough with Dr. Phlox wanting to run tests all the time. Can you imagine what they'll do? Probably try to . . .//

Trip grabbed his lover and pulled him close. //We've already said, and Phlox agrees, that they can't be removed. We're not going to lose this, Malcolm.// The blond man kissed Malcolm's dark hair. //Y'know, five months ago we would have given anything to end this connection, but now. . .//

//Now neither of us can stay sane without it?// Malcolm asked, and received a nod in reply. They reluctantly pulled apart as the lift slowed, their demeanor once again professional as they stepped into the corridor on B deck. "I took the liberty of examining the Vulcan database entry on the starbase at Thenlian Three." When Tucker gave him a confused look, Reed continued. "It's not that far from our route, and I wanted to see what kind of security measures might be needed if the captain decided to stop over."

"Good thinking, Lieutenant," Trip said as they passed some crewmen. "What did you find out?"

"It's a major transfer point for this sector of space. A lot of ships stop at the starbase for repairs or shore leave, and a lot of crewmembers are changed out on freighter and merchant ships. There are always captains looking for new crewmembers. Especially experienced ones. _Enterprise_ will have to be careful that some of the more unsavory ones don't try to kidnap our officers."

They had paused outside the door to Trip's quarters. Trip reached up and punched in his access code. "Have you thought of ways to prevent that?" he asked as the door opened. Malcolm nodded, then acknowledged the greetings of a group of ensigns. "Why don't you come in and tell me what you have in mind, then."

Malcolm accepted the invitation, knowing that the audible words were for the crew's ears, so that no one would think anything of the two of them talking in the Commander's quarters. The mental words were for Malcolm alone. //Come on in and tell me what that devious mind of yours is cookin' up.//

Once the door was closed, Malcolm moved over to sit down on the bunk. //We'd both be assets to any crew . . .// he began.

Trip held up a hand. //Wait a second. Are you, Mr. Military, suggesting we jump ship? Go AWOL?//

//No, that would lead to courts-martial and we'd still end up back on Earth as 'guests' of Starfleet Medical. I'm saying we could resign our commissions and get jobs elsewhere. Warp engineers are a rare commodity, and ships like that can always use a weapons expert.//

Trip sat down heavily next to Malcolm. //We'd be giving up everything, you know. All our friends, the chance to see Earth again.//

//I know. But I'm not sure there are many other alternatives. And like I said, merely deserting our posts would have worse repercussions than simply resigning.//

Trip sighed. //I think you're right.// He stood up and began pacing the room. //I can't believe that Starfleet is puttin' science above people. I mean, who knows these weapons better'n' you? Or the engines like I do?//

//No one. But Starfleet is apparently more interested in the kt'alini than in having the best on this mission. And. . .// Malcolm paused, not wanted to offend Trip.

//And the Cap'n ain't exactly seemin' like he's interested in having' us stay.// Trip finished. //I know, Mal. I couldn't believe that either. It's why I had to close you out, earlier. I mean, the cap'n fights like hell to get us back, then he acts like he don't want us here, now he's throwin' us to the wolves.// Trip stopped and leaned against the porthole, looking out into the star field.

//I know, love. I'm sorry.// Malcolm was. Jonathan Archer had been Trip's close friend for several years, and the apparent loss of that friendship had hit Trip hard over the past month. Since their return from Il'endi, Trip had rarely been invited to dine in the Captain's mess, or watch water polo with his friend. The captain hadn't said more to Malcolm than absolutely necessary when on duty, and seemed to avoid him when they were off duty. It was as if he viewed them as not being Trip and Malcolm anymore.

Trip turned back to Malcolm, frowning. //You don't suppose they know about the mind-joining part of the kt'alini, do you?//

//God, I hope not. If they found out, we'd never be free from the doctors.//

Trip sat down on the bed again, back against the wall and pulled his lifemate to him, wrapping his arms around Malcolm's chest and resting his chin on top of the other man's head. //Tell me more about this starbase, darlin'. I want to know all about our options before we burn our bridges.//

* * *

Dr. Phlox had discovered the kt'alini life form when he had given them a full bioscan the day after they had returned to _Enterprise_. To say he was surprised would have been an understatement. He was concerned that the decontamination procedures hadn't found the life forms. Trip and Malcolm had both tried to assure him that they weren't anything to be concerned about—it wasn't something that would infect the crew.

"Doc, the kt'alini only affect us," Tucker patiently explained for what seemed like the fiftieth time as Dr. Phlox took more scans of Reed, focusing on the area where the kt'alini resided.

"Yes, but in what way, Commander? These life forms did not show up on the decontamination scans, and the two of you neglected to mention them."

"Doctor, what's going on?" Captain Archer had entered sickbay while the doctor was rebuking Trip.

"Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed were apparently the recipients of an alien life form while they were on Il'endi, one that is still living inside their bodies and was not detected by the decon scanner. Commander Tucker is trying to convince me the life form is harmless."

Archer looked at the two men in surprise. "What alien life form?"

"I believe I mentioned the kt'alini healing technique the first night you arrived, Captain," Reed began. "The kt'alini are a life form that provide healing abilities to the recipients. Commander Tucker and I were healed of our apparently extensive crash injuries by the kt'alini."

Archer turned to his armory officer. "You also said the side effects were permanent. You didn't say the side effects were the presence of an alien in your body."

"Cap'n, quite honestly Malcolm an' I didn't think about that because on the planet, it's known and it's not unusual. Hell, we'd been living with them for four months—it was normal to us by then."

Archer turned to Phlox, ignoring Tucker. "Can these life forms be removed?"

//If Phlox values his life, he won't try.//

//We're not going to let him, darlin'.//

"I don't know, Captain," the Denobulan was saying. "I don't know enough about the kt'alini or how integrated they are with their systems. I'd have to do more tests."

Archer swung around to face his officers. "The two of you just let the Il'endi do this?"

"We were unconscious, Cap'n. We didn't know what happened until we woke up, and by then it was done. The Il'endi seemed to think we wouldn't survive if they didn't try the kt'alini." Tucker was standing with his arms across his chest, matching Archer glare for glare. Reed was standing slightly behind Tucker, one hand resting on a biobed. His entire body seemed coiled, like he was anticipating having to attack someone.

"So the Il'endi just tell you that these life forms heal you, and you accept it?" Archer seemed unconvinced.

Trip glared at him and moved over to where Dr. Phlox had a display of antique medical equipment, pushing his left sleeve up as he walked. He pulled a scalpel off the wall and turned back to the three observers. He drew the blade of the scalpel down the pale skin of his inner forearm, a dark red line of blood welling up in its wake. Archer and Phlox gasped and moved toward Trip, who had set the scalpel down on the counter.

While Phlox grabbed Trip's wrist to check the wound, Trip looked up and past the shocked green eyes of his best friend to the calm gray ones of his lifemate. Reed understood Tucker's actions, would have understood them even without the bond they shared. Neither of them had believed in the kt'alini healing ability until the first time one of them had been injured. Tucker could have talked until he was blue in the face, but that wouldn't have convinced Captain Archer or Doctor Phlox.

Now, Archer and Phlox were seeing the results of the kt'alini—the blood had stopped oozing almost instantly and the sliced skin was closing, sealing itself up. In less than two minutes, there was nothing marring the skin except some drying blood. It looked as if Tucker had never even taken the scalpel to it.

"Amazing."

Tucker ignored the doctor's remark. "We didn't just take the Il'endi's word for it," he told his captain. "We were both injured more than once on the planet, and we both healed quicker than we would have before the kt'alini."

"Interesting that you both have these three scars on your right wrists, as well as the one on the back of your neck," Phlox commented.

"The kt'alini enter at the base of the skull," Reed replied. "All Il'endi who have received kt'alini have that scar." Reed looked down at where his left thumb was tracing the lifemate scars. "These scars were from an Il'endi ritual Commander Tucker and I participated in. The Il'endi have something that prevents the kt'alini from healing ritual scars."

"You participated in a ritual that required cutting yourselves?" Dr. Phlox seemed concerned. Reed merely shrugged.

"Actually, someone else made the cuts, but yes, we did. We were part of the clan, Doctor. They didn't think it was unusual, and considering we weren't sure how long we were going to be on the planet, it was a good idea for us to fit in with their culture, rather than impose our own on them. That meant participating in rituals, as well as the language and customs."

Jonathan Archer looked from one man to the other. He was having trouble believing that they had deceived him by not telling him about the kt'alini. Starfleet Command was going to have a conniption when they heard. "The two of you are off duty for the rest of the day. I'll put it out that Dr. Phlox wants to run a battery of tests to ensure that you are healthy after four months on the planet. You are to cooperate with him, understand?"

Tucker and Reed nodded, both seeing the closed off look on their captain's face. Tucker recognized that look from the last time he had seen it on his best friend's face—right after he'd walked into a bar in San Francisco and saw his girlfriend kissing another guy. Jon was feeling betrayed. The captain turned and walked out without another word.

//I'm sorry, Trip.// Malcolm sounded genuinely regretful.

//I know, Malcolm. I should have expected this, I guess.// Jon would feel hurt that Trip hadn't mentioned anything like this to him.

"Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to step over here," Phlox was saying. The lifemates looked at each other, knowing this was going to be a very long and trying day.

* * *

Phlox and T'Pol were in Archer's ready room, discussing Reed and Tucker. Both of the men had been released from sickbay to their quarters. Archer wanted T'Pol to hear the report, as she had spent a lot of time on the planet with the Il'endi elders.

"It would be impossible to remove the kt'alini without causing permanent damage, Captain. Frankly, I'm not positive we could remove them without killing Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed. The life forms have totally integrated with the men on a sub-cellular level to be able to affect healing. Look at this." He called up a diagram of his two patients. "They represent various bodily tissues with cell lines of a more recent variety than these here in yellow, which have been present since conception in the two men. Human cell lines are set during the gestation period, and they don't alter to this degree over the remaining lifespan. These have been altered by the kt'alini."

T'Pol gestured to the screen. "What are the two blue areas?"

"Those are the sentient portions of the organisms, which are still present at the brainstem area, apparently directing the efforts of the healing cells."

"So these things are permanently a part of Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed?"

Dr. Phlox nodded. "On the bright side, the healing abilities granted by the kt'alini are remarkable. Commander Tucker was right when he said the Il'endi believed the men would not survive without the kt'alini. In short, captain, given the ratio of new cells to original cells, and the vital areas in which most of the former can be found, neither man would have been alive when we reached Il'endi. Also this alteration in their cell lines means that I'm not sure what effect traditional human medical techniques would have on them."

The captain ran a hand over his face. As much as he didn't like the idea of alien life forms permanently living in the bodies of his officers, he realized that he ought to be thankful that the Il'endi had used the kt'alini. Otherwise, he would have arrived on that planet to find two graves instead of two healthy officers.

He turned to his science officer. "What do you think of all this?"

"The kt'alini do not seem to pose a threat either to _Enterprise_ or to Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed. The logical action would be to allow Dr. Phlox to continue his testing, while permitting the men to continue in their duties. That way the doctor will know the effect of the kt'alini on them, and be able to treat both the Commander and the Lieutenant the next time one of them is injured."

"I would like to send my findings to Starfleet Medical and my colleagues at the I.M.E., Captain. Perhaps one of them has heard of such a creature and would be able to provide insight into the matter."

Captain Archer nodded his permission. "Keep me informed. Just don't schedule tests during their duty shifts. I want the crew to think everything is normal. These past months have been hard enough on them."

Dr. Phlox nodded his understanding before leaving the room. The Sub-Commander remained. Archer looked up at her. "You have something to add?" he asked.

"They are still the same people they were before we knew about the kt'alini. If you let this affect your dealings with them, you may lose their friendship."

Archer snorted. "They've got alien life forms living in their bodies, doing who knows what to their systems, and you're telling me they're the same people? Are they still even human?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's going to take me a while to get used to this. Dismissed."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, but merely nodded and left the room. Archer got up and stared out the window. How could this not affect his dealings with Tucker and Reed? Trip was no longer just Trip, the easy-going Southerner who knew the Warp 5 engine better than anyone else on Earth or off. He was now Trip and the kt'alini stowaway, providing him with who knew what powers or abilities.

Archer wasn't sure if the man who had been his best friend was still alive.

* * *

A month after the return of Tucker and Reed to the _Enterprise_ , Jonathan Archer walked into his ready room after dealing with station personnel regarding the docking of the _Enterprise_ and the estimated time of arrival for the _T'Shiel_. The Vulcan ship was due in a few hours, and Jon had already authorized the crew to visit the station while they were off duty. All that was left was to say goodbye to his best friend. Or, as he privately thought to himself, send two friends off to the gallows.

The box on his desk caught his eye. Frowning, he lifted the lid to find two padds, each resting on top of a precisely folded Starfleet uniform. Both uniforms bore red striping, but one had three rank pips, the other only two. A Commander's uniform and a Lieutenant's uniform. A feeling of sick dread pooling in his stomach, he picked up the padd lying on the Commander's uniform and activated it, reading the messages it contained with disbelief and anger.

Though he knew what it would say, he still picked up the other padd and read the messages through. He set each to dump the primary message to the main computer, and activated the com.

"Hoshi, get me Admiral Forrest. I don't care what time it is there, I want to talk to him now!"

* * *

In an unsavory part of the starbase, where identities were as transient as the bearer's mood, two men rented a room under the names of John Mayweather and Travis Archer. The proprietor didn't even blink, just accepted their currency and handed over the keys—no identity cards needed.

Malcolm stepped into the room first, scanning it carefully before allowing Trip to enter. As soon as Malcolm shut the door behind Trip, he found himself pinned to the door by the older man. Trip's mouth was hot and hard on his, seemingly trying to draw emotional support from the simple act of kissing. It turned into something more, though, as both men felt the urgency through the bond, a need for a physical joining. Reassurance from each other that they were doing the right thing.

In very little time, both men were naked on the bed, Malcolm's legs pushed up as Trip began stretching him open with lube slick fingers. Malcolm was rarely on bottom, hating to be so vulnerable, as he saw it. Yet to Trip, he'd never looked more gorgeous than he did like this, head thrown back and stoic facade crumbling. Entering his lover, Trip let out a soft moan, once again awed by the simple act of making love to Malcolm Reed. It didn't take long for both men to reach completion, Malcolm coming first, crying out the way he had when they were on Il'endi. He had been quiet on _Enterprise_ , barely even moaning. Seeing Malcolm so abandoned in his pleasure took Trip over the edge, and he groaned Malcolm's name repeatedly as he came hard inside his lover.

Later, lying with his head on Malcolm's shoulder, one hand idly tracing random patterns on the younger man's chest, Trip finally gave voice to the question that had haunted him since they had beamed the box into the Captain's ready room. "Mal, did we do the right thing? Resigning?"

"I don't know, Trip. I'm not too sure of anything, anymore."

Trip sighed, hearing what Malcolm didn't say—now that it seemed like Starfleet and their captain had betrayed them, what was there to be sure of?

"I do know one thing I am sure of, though."

"Yeah, what's that?"

Malcolm raised his head so that he could look into Trip's eyes. "I love you, Charles Tucker."

Trip looked back into the gray eyes of his lover, his lifemate. "I love you too, Malcolm Reed."

* * *

"This had better be good, Jonathan."

Archer calmly stared back at his superior, who was in civilian clothing and looking very grumpy. The chronometer on the wall behind Admiral Forrest told Archer it was barely three in the morning in San Francisco. Good, he thought. If I'm losing sleep over these damn orders, so can he.

"I just wanted to inform you, Admiral, that Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed have resigned from Starfleet as of 1700 hours today. They have already left _Enterprise_." Archer paused, and then interrupted Admiral Forrest just as the older man was about to speak. "I would have informed you sooner, but the resignations weren't tendered in person. However, they did send copies of their resignations to Starfleet Command at the time of their resignation. And no, I don't know where they are now."

"They can't resign —" the Admiral started to say. Archer interrupted him again.

"Yes, they can, Admiral. When they joined, they were both required to put in at least five years in exchange for the training. After that, they were free to resign their commissions. Commander Tucker has been in for twelve years, Lieutenant Reed for eight. Frankly, Admiral, I'm not surprised they did. After all, they were stranded on a planet for four months among an alien race, finally rescued, subject to test after test on _Enterprise_ about the one thing that saved their lives on that planet, and then transferred to Starfleet Medical to become lab rats. I'd resign too in that situation. And I'm not about to try to force them to come back, Admiral. Don't consider giving me that order, because I can tell you now I won't do it."

Admiral Forest ran a hand over his face. "Damn it, Jon. I wasn't intending for this to happen. It's just that there were a lot of concerns here about Starfleet officers with alien life forms living in their bodies. Life forms that apparently grant extraordinary healing ability and who knows what other powers, if you will, to them. The Vulcans —"

"What do the Vulcans have to do with this, Admiral?" Jon asked in a deceptively calm voice.

"One of their doctors was visiting Starfleet Medical when the last report from Dr. Phlox came in. He informed Ambassador Soval of the situation."

"So because the Vulcans, who by the way couldn't find our missing crewmembers when we asked and therefore might have saved them from the need for the kt'alini to heal them, are uncomfortable with the situation, we're giving in to them? Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed have been through enough, Admiral. I'm not sure why Starfleet is looking this gift horse in the mouth."

"Jon—what else can the kt'alini do, do you even know?"

"What do you mean, Admiral?"

Admiral Forest sighed. "The Vulcans say they have encountered similar symbiotic societies before. Sometimes, along with the healing abilities, a telepathic ability is granted."

"So?"

"So, the concern is that if they have some sort of ability like that, they could influence others on board ship."

"I get it. We're punishing them for an ability they may or may not have, that they may or may not use, and that they never asked for in the first place. Damn it, Admiral, if I'd known Starfleet was going to treat them this way, I would have left them on that damn planet to live out their lives. The Il'endi treated the sky-strangers better than Starfleet is treating two of their own."

"Do you think they would go back to Il'endi?"

Archer snorted. "I think Lieutenant Reed is devious enough to anticipate your moves, Admiral. He'll know that's one of the first places you'll look, so it would be the last place he would go." Archer stopped pacing and sat down in front of the screen. "Admiral, don't do this to them. I know you've seen Dr. Phlox's reports. Any attempt to remove the kt'alini would kill both the kt'alini and its host."

"I'm sorry, Jon, but the orders still stand."

Archer sighed. "Well, then the _T'Shiel_ can have fun looking for them."

"Jon..." Admiral Forest warned.

"I'm not about to participate in the destruction of two of the finest officers I've ever had the pleasure to serve with, Admiral. Good night." Archer cut the connection and slammed his hand down on the desk. Sighing, he hit the comm. "Sub-Commander T'Pol, report to my ready room immediately."

Less than a minute later, the Vulcan was standing before him. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"You spent a lot of our time on Il'endi observing their culture, and you've helped Dr. Phlox in his testing of the kt'alini, right?"

"I did."

"Did you see anything that would remotely suggest that Trip and Malcolm had gained any sort of telepathic ability as a result of the bonding to the kt'alini?"

T'Pol stared back the Captain. "You've seen my report on the Il'endi culture and the tests that have been run."

"I want to know what you might have inadvertently omitted from your reports. Starfleet Command has ordered Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker back to Earth because they are afraid they may have telepathic abilities that may be used to influence people on the ship."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Neither the Commander nor the Lieutenant have shown any sort of ability, or inclination, to perform such an abhorrent act."

"So the kt'alini did not grant them telepathic abilities?"

T'Pol stared at him calmly. "From my observations, and from what both men and the Il'endi elders have told me, the kt'alini bonding is done in pairs—a pair of kt'alini to a pair of hosts. The hosts are then granted the healing ability, as well as being telepathically linked only to each other."

Archer stared at T'Pol. "They are telepathic?"

"The Commander and the Lieutenant can communicate telepathically with each other through the kt'alini. Other than that, they have do not have any telepathic ability."

Archer ran a hand over his face. "Command is going to throw a fit over them being connected at all, even if it is only to each other." He glared at his second-in-command. "And why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't relevant to the reports or the crew's safety. Neither one would be able to influence others, nor were they showing any signs of influencing each other."

"You don't think it's relevant that if one of them got hurt, the other would apparently know? Possibly go berserk from the others' pain? It's relevant to the safety of my entire crew if the Chief Engineer can't do his job because the Armory Officer is injured."

"It appears, Captain, that you are applying a double standard. You don't seem to have a problem with other involved couples on the ship not being able to function if one member is hurt. You've even allowed some of them to be on away missions together."

"Trip and Malcolm are telepathically linked, not romantically involved."

"Actually, Captain, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed are lifemates under Il'endi law, a status separate from their kt'alini bonding. I confirmed that fact with Jo'eli and Ri'vran before we left Il'endi. They performed the ritual."

"Lifemates?" Archer asked incredulously. "As in, married?"

"Yes." T'Pol hesitated a second. "I do not believe it was a 'marriage of convenience', as your people would call it."

Archer sighed. Trip and Malcolm—lifemates. That was unexpected. Trip was his best friend, and while Archer knew Trip wasn't as straight as he acted, he'd never said anything about being interested in Malcolm. And since the two men had returned from Il'endi, there had been no signs that Archer could recall of either being involved with anyone—much less each other.

But that did help explain their reactions to being transferred. Starfleet was likely to separate them to study them, and if they were married and telepathically linked to each other, then being parted would probably, maybe literally, kill them. Resigning together meant they would stay together. He gestured to the couch. "Sit down, Sub-Commander, and tell me everything you know. Trip and Malcolm resigned from Starfleet as of 1700 hours, and I need to know everything before I can convince Starfleet to drop their orders and then find and convince the two of them to return."

T'Pol didn't sit. "If I may speak freely, Captain, I do not know if you will be able to convince them to return."

Archer stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Ever since the kt'alini were discovered, you have been treating both of them like pariahs, barely speaking to them or engaging in any activities that were normal before they were stranded. Commander Tucker has dined in the Captain's mess a total of three times since his return—and all three were because we had visiting dignitaries on board. You've only spoken to Lieutenant Reed when necessary on the bridge, and never when off duty as far as I can tell. Away missions with the two have also been strained, a fact noticed by Ensigns Mayweather and Sato, both of whom have approached me on the matter. To be blunt, you have not given either man any indication that you are pleased to have them back on board, and done everything short of requesting their transfer to make them want to leave. Unless, of course, your wishes were behind the transfer to Starfleet Medical."

Archer gaped at her. T'Pol continued. "Tell me, Captain, how will you treat them should they return? After all, the kt'alini will still be a part of them. And now you know about their relationship. Will that make any difference? Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed obviously felt it would, since they have not announced it to the ship. Instead, they've suppressed their natural actions around each other, even when off duty, and endured not being able to share the same quarters the way any other couple would be able to. Can you convince them that will change if they return? If not, they may choose to find another ship where the captain is more accepting of their bonding, rather than return to the deprivations they will face on _Enterprise_."

Archer sighed. "I get the feeling you don't think much of my actions over the past month."

"You have been rather harsh toward two men who had only each other for four months, fell in love, as you humans term it, and survived the best way they could until rescued. Perhaps they would have been better off if we had not discovered their location."

Archer got up, stinging from hearing the same words he'd thrown at the Admiral now thrown at him.

"What are you saying, that I should just let them go?"

"I am merely suggesting you review your own actions and beliefs before taking any further action. If you do not change your mind, how do you expect to change theirs?"

* * *

Trip wanted to make the most of their unexpected vacation on the starbase before they set about finding a ship to join. He cajoled Malcolm in to going out with him to one of the station's nightclubs, a hole-in-the-wall type place with a bar and a dance floor and a few tables. Malcolm snagged a table while Trip headed to the bar.

//If you get anything that looks like what we had on Risa, I'll make your death slow and painful,// Malcolm promised.

//I was thinking of bourbon for me and warm beer for you, or the local equivalent,// Trip thought back as he finally found a place at the bar.

//Sounds good. I'm over in the corner by the entrance.//

//You can take the man out of the armory...// Trip sent with amusement.

//Like you weren't complaining that the station's engines were out of alignment.//

//True.// Trip ordered their drinks and waited while the bartender, an alien with a ring of eyes on stalks all around his/her head, retrieved them. Trip paid and tipped the bartender before making his way through the crowd to where his lover waited. He noticed Malcolm was looking past him as Trip approached.

//Ensigns at bearing 018.//

Trip frowned. //Who and did they spot us?// Neither man had any idea of how their resignations had been taken on _Enterprise_ , or if the captain had even announced it to the crew.

//Travis, Hoshi, Ensign Meyer, and Crewman Cutler, and they've spotted us.//

Trip set the drinks down and slid into the seat a few seconds before the group approached them. "Commander, Lieutenant, mind if we join you?" Hoshi asked.

Trip shook his head. "Not at all, have a seat." The four slipped into the other chairs. Travis smiled.

"I didn't know this was your kind of place, Lieutenant," Ensign Meyer commented to his C.O.

Malcolm shrugged. "There are worse places on the station. I'm refusing to set foot below level four." Levels three and below were where the station's brothels were reputed to be. It was also known as a place where an unwary being could lose his freedom—or his life.

"I don't blame you," Travis commented. "I've heard the stories about some of the things that go on down there."

"Exactly." Malcolm took a sip of his beer. "And we're off duty and on shore leave. You can call me Malcolm, Alan. So can the rest of you."

All four of the lower ranked officers looked surprised, as was Trip. "You feelin' all right, Malcolm?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just want to actually be off duty for once," he said testily. //I can't let them call me by a rank that's no longer mine, even if they don't know it yet. It doesn't sit right with me.//

//Good point.// "Ah hell, why don't we all forget we're in Starfleet tonight and throw the ranks out the window?" Trip suggested. "Malcolm and I promise not to charge anyone with insubordination, if you Ensigns agree to do the same for Liz here." He gestured to Crewman Cutler, who was as amazed as the ensigns.

The three ensigns looked at each other and shrugged. "Sounds like a plan to me," Travis said.

The six friends sat around for the better part of an hour, drinking and telling space stories and allowing rank and protocol to fall to the wayside. When the DJ started playing music, Hoshi grabbed Malcolm's hand. "C'mon, Malcolm. I wanna dance."

Trip, Travis, and the others stared after the two. "How many of those fruity drink things did she have tonight?" Liz Cutler asked.

"Not enough," Trip said with a sigh, "'cause she didn't ask me to dance." He winked at the others.

Liz grabbed Alan's hand. "Apologies, Trip, but I haven't had enough either." She winked at him in apology and yanked the ensign onto the floor.

Travis and Trip looked at each other. Travis raised an eyebrow, and Trip shook his head. "Sorry, Trav. You're not exactly my type."

"Dare I ask who your type is?"

Trip smiled. "Let's just say that I know and my type knows and leave it at that."

Travis gave a wicked grin. "I just knew there was something going on with you and Porthos."

Trip threw back his head and laughed. Travis chuckled until his communicator chirped. Frowning, he pulled it from a side pocket in his civilian jacket. "Excuse me."

Trip waved his hand, not bothered by the interruption. He took the opportunity to watch Malcolm dancing with Hoshi and Liz and Alan. Malcolm was definitely the best looking person on the floor. Malcolm caught him staring and smiled.

//Travis isn't your type, hm?//

//Nope. He's too tall, his eyes aren't the right color, and he's got the wrong accent.//

//So who is your type then?//

//Fishin' for compliments? I like stormy-eyed, dark-haired, gun-mad Brits.//

//Funny, I happen to have a thing for honey-haired, blue-eyed, engine-worshipping Southerners myself.//

Both men smiled at each other as the dancers returned to the table.

"Where's Travis?" Liz asked.

"He got a call," Trip replied, moving his chair over to make room for Malcolm.

Hoshi frowned. "That's odd. Wonder from who?"

Trip shrugged. "Didn't ask."

Travis returned then, looking a little puzzled. "That was the Captain. Hoshi, Alan, and I are wanted back on _Enterprise_ for a briefing with him."

"Just us three?" Alan asked, a little confused as to why his C.O. and the Chief Engineer hadn't been summoned.

"Just us. I told him you were here if he needed you, too, and he said that you two already knew about it." Travis had turned to the two ranking officers. "And he said to tell you that he got the messages you left and he's accepting your recommendations."

Both men relaxed fractionally, worried that they would have had to lie to their friends about why they weren't going to a briefing they should have been included in. Also, now they knew the Captain had gotten their resignations. Though he had couched his response in terms that wouldn't arouse anyone's suspicions, he was apparently accepting the resignations.

When the three Ensigns started to leave, Liz Cutler got up with them. "I have an early duty shift tomorrow," she explained. "See you two later."

"Bye."

"Later," Trip called after them, though he was sure it was a lie.

Malcolm and Trip stayed a few moments more, watching the dancers move. A slow song came on and Malcolm pulled Trip onto the floor. "One dance," he said softly. "One last dance." He put his arms around Trip, swaying to the music.

_So stay with me, and hold me tight, and dance, like it's the last night of the world._

Trip held onto Malcolm as the two men silently said goodbye to the lives and friends they'd known, unsure of what the next day would bring them, but knowing they would be together.

* * *

Jon Archer looked at the five puzzled faces in the Situation room—Travis, Hoshi, Ensign Meyer, Lieutenant Hess, and Dr. Phlox. To be called to a briefing with the captain at this time of night was unusual. For Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed to be absent was almost unheard of, unless one of them was injured or being held hostage.

Archer sighed, figuring he ought to get this over with. "At 1700 hours yesterday, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed resigned from Starfleet."

Silence filled the room as the stunned personnel tried to absorb the information. Jon decided to get the rest of the news out of the way before the questions started flying. "Ensign Meyer, I'm placing you in charge of the Armory. Lieutenant Hess, as of now you are Chief Engineer."

"Did they say why?" Hoshi asked timidly.

Archer sighed. "It's a long story, Hoshi. One I'm not sure I'm at liberty to reveal."

Travis was shaking his head. "We were just with them and they didn't say anything about it." 

"Perhaps they were unsure as to if the resignations had been announced, and didn't wish to spoil your shore leave," T'Pol suggested.

"Would explain why Lieutenant Reed didn't want to be called by his rank." Ensign Meyer pointed out.

"So, what now, Sir?" Lieutenant Hess asked.

"I'm trying to fix the situation that led to their resignations, but I don't think it's going to be easy. I just wanted to inform you before I inform the rest of the crew."

"Sir, I'm not sure how well the crew will take this. I mean, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed have only been back for a month."

"I know, Hoshi. I know. But it needs to be done." He looked at the faces around him, wishing this meeting hadn't happened. "Dismissed."

All except Hoshi and T'Pol left the room.

"Sir, does this have anything to do with the kt'alini?" Hoshi asked.

Archer was surprised. "What do you know about the kt'alini?"

"I spent a lot of time with the Il'endi. They mentioned them, and their healing and bonding abilities. I thought some of them mentioned that Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed had received kt'alini, but I could never get a straight answer."

Archer sighed. "They did, Hoshi. And that fact has Starfleet Command and the Vulcan High Command nervous. They ordered Trip and Malcolm back to Starfleet Medical so they could run tests on them. They preferred to resign, rather than go."

Hoshi's eyes were troubled. "There has to be something we can do to get them to stay on _Enterprise_."

Archer smiled. "I'm working on it, Hoshi. T'Pol and I are."

* * *

Dr. Phlox had left the briefing and immediately left the ship. Using his medical scanner, he was able to track down the two men by the kt'alini. They were in a seedy area of the station, but not too dangerous. He rang the chime on the door, still looking at the scanner. He could tell when one of the men had moved closer to the opening, but no words of challenge or welcome were heard.

"It's Dr. Phlox," he announced, deciding that he didn't want to know if Lieutenant Reed, undoubtedly the man by the door, was armed.

The door slid open after several seconds, and the lieutenant stood in the doorway, a guarded look on his face. "Doctor," he said shortly.

"May I come in?"

The man looked over his shoulder, then sighed and stepped back, allowing the doctor to pass. The room was dimly lit, making it difficult to see the other occupant. Then Commander Tucker moved forward, standing just behind the other man.

"What can we do for you, Doc?"

"The captain informed the senior staff that the two of you had resigned."

Reed nodded. "He was telling the truth, if that's what you are worried about."

"Actually, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to convince you to return."

Tucker snorted. "I think you've done enough already, thanks. We were ordered to Starfleet Medical to become lab rats for the docs there. We've been poked and prodded more than our fair share already. We weren't going to let them have their shot."

Tucker had sat down on the dingy couch in the room while speaking. Reed moved over to perch on the arm, next to the engineer. "Trip and I decided that leaving _Enterprise_ and finding positions on a civilian starship would be preferable to the alternative Starfleet gave us."

Phlox sighed, realizing just how much his curiosity over the kt'alini was now costing the two men. "I'm sorry," he said. "I would like to make it up to you if possible."

Tucker sighed, and Reed put a hand on his shoulder. When Tucker looked up at Reed, blue eyes dark with emotion, Phlox finally put together all the little hints he'd seen between the men over the past month—the touches, the looks, the way they often sat closer to each other than to other crewmembers.

"You are mated," he said now. Both men looked at him, startled, before Tucker nodded.

"We're lifemates, as the Il'endi would put it."

"The ritual that placed the scars on your wrists?" When Reed nodded, Phlox understood why the younger man had been so adamant about not having them removed. Tucker had been less vehement, but no less stubborn about leaving them. Phlox looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling ashamed of his actions. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"We didn't tell anyone," Reed said softly. "Not all humans understand same-sex relationships."

Phlox nodded—he'd seen that during his time in San Francisco. He'd treated a few Starfleet officers who had been the unfortunate recipients of 'gay bashing', as he'd heard it termed. "I wish that you had felt comfortable enough to tell me, but I understand wanting to keep your secrets on board ship." He sighed. "The captain said he is trying to fix the problem that led to your resignations."

Reed looked at his lifemate, both apparently surprised at this news. "We'd like that," Tucker said slowly, "but I don't think Starfleet's gonna be that easy to convince."

"What will you do now? If I may ask."

"Try to find positions aboard another ship. There are plenty around here that need engineers and weapons men." Tucker shrugged. "It's not _Enterprise_ , but it's a job."

Phlox nodded. He picked up a padd that was sitting on the metal table and tapped something into it. "This is a code that I use for medical transmissions between myself and my I.M.E. colleagues. Ensign Sato knows that the transmissions are confidential and neither reads them nor tracks them. If you gentlemen need anything, even if it's just to keep up on ship's gossip, please use this. I promise I will not reveal anything to the Captain or Starfleet Command. After all, I still consider myself to be your doctor." He held the padd out to the men. Reed took it. "Good luck, gentlemen."

"Phlox, thank you," Reed said to the doctor, someone he saw all too often in the line of duty. Someone he considered a friend.

Phlox nodded as he left. Reed and Tucker looked at each other. //If the Cap'n changes Starfleet's mind. . .//

//I guess we'll have to negotiate that bridge when we come to it.//

//Can I negotiate with you into crossing something else?// Trip asked with a leer.

Reed slid off the arm of the couch and into Trip's lap. //I think you might have something I want.//

* * *

Terisan Gesnick looked over the list of beings registered with the starbase job center. The usual listing of people he wouldn't trust on his cargo ship. He sighed, about to toss the padd down when two names of a species he didn't know appeared on the list. "Trip Tucker—Human—Warp Engineer. Malcolm Reed—Human—Weapons Specialist." Terisan had never heard of humans, but he needed an engineer. The weapons specialist—well he already had a weapons officer, but it wouldn't hurt to talk to the being. He had never met humans before and it would help to have more than one for comparison. He punched in a request to have them sent to his ship for an interview.

Terisan was surprised when both men showed up promptly and in clean clothing. Most of the starbase's job applicants were barely sober, much less clean. These two were sober, clean, and professional. To the Horatian, that was a plus. He ran a long route between the starbase and Horatia Minor. Half the time his engineers jumped ship at one of the minor stops in between. These two looked like he could count on them for the entire run. He wondered what had happened to bring them to the starbase, but he wasn't about to anger the gods by not accepting this gift.

"I'm afraid," he said, waiting as their translators worked, "that I don't have a place for a weapons person, but I'd like to have you on my ship, Tucker."

He saw the two men exchange looks, and Tucker shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gesnick, but, well, Reed and I are. . ." it took a few seconds for the translator to find the appropriate Horatian word. When it came through, Terisan was stunned by his good fortune.

"You are righparian! Wonderful! I prefer righparian on my ship—causes less problems. If Reed can work on engines as well, you both have a place on the _Kraynita_."

Reed nodded. "I can work on engines." He had helped when repairs required every officer skilled in mechanics.

"Wonderful! Then I may tell the center you are hired?"

Both men nodded, and Terisan smiled as he tapped out the code into the padd. He stood, smiling. "Let me show you around the ship."

* * *

On _Enterprise_ , as Captain Archer stood on the bridge with the captain of the _T'Shiel_ and argued with Admiral Forrest and Ambassdor Soval, Dr. Phlox smiled sadly as he read a confidential message. Tucker and Reed were now engineers on the Horatian cargo ship _Kraynita_ , heading on a two year run to the Horatian colony world. The crew of the ship was the captain, his wife, and two other 'righparian' couples—married, as the message put it. The two men had been accepted warmly as another married couple. The message was tinged with sadness at leaving _Enterprise_ , but Phlox could sense their relief at being together and being accepted.

He noted the _Kraynita_ 's com frequency in his I.M.E. confidential file and deleted the message from the padd, the main sickbay console, and the main computer. He couldn't erase the com logs; but without the text of the message, no one would know it wasn't from an I.M.E. colleague.

* * *

On the _Kraynita_ , Malcolm and Trip lay in each other's arms, sound asleep, both dreaming of _Enterprise_. They both looked forward to the future, but couldn't help wishing for their past.


End file.
